


Once the myth has been told

by it_was_so_human



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/it_was_so_human/pseuds/it_was_so_human
Summary: He wishes she would again embrace him like a beloved brother. (But he’s no longer her brother and he deserves her disdain.)





	Once the myth has been told

He had killed the boy, and did ugly necessary things in becoming the man.

And the greater the war grew, the more ugliness it entailed.  

He knows it is an unspeakably ugly thing to ask of her.

She shouldn’t have to do this, but the necessities of war required it.

It was only made uglier still by the hurt he saw in her eyes. The initial shock replaced by a deep pain.

Her bright Tully blue eyes had not shined in joy in years, and her continuous sorrow would be on his shoulders.

“This is what your Dragon Queen asks of me?” her voice is clear and measured, but the note of disdain unmistakable.

She had trusted him. Trusted him to keep her safe but he had betrayed her trust. _He failed her._

She looked at him as if she should have known better and he feels it in his very being. 

Forced into engagements and marriages time and time again, always against her will. His beautiful little sister dreamed of princes and knights, dreamed of being in the songs she loved. And instead by the hands of their enemies forced into the darkness.

But now it wasn’t an enemy’s doing. It was his. Her own brother, _nay_ _cousin_.

“If there was another choice Sansa… and he is considered to be an honorable man… he will make a good husband,” his words flailing and meaningless, he barely hears them himself.

“An honorable man who will only promise his support after marriage.”

She is shivering. Gods, he can tell that she is shivering.

“No one will hurt you. Not again.”

“I know more about how marriages work than you do Jon. Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” a sad shake of her head.

“You can take Arya with you for—” 

“No, there should be a Stark in Winterfell,” her tone is cold, reminding him that he is no Stark.

_Not anymore._

She hadn’t denied him when he was first revealed to be a Targaryen, but she does so now. Her gaze holds a new layer of mistrust. (Of why he might truly want her removed from the North.)

_No, Sansa. I never meant for this to happen._

He had slammed Little Finger against the wall for his affections. His predatory looks.

But now it is Jon who is a threat to her. And his transgressions only supported by the counsel. Necessitated by his Queen, aunt, _lover_. 

Another man, old and not of her choosing, will take Sansa and have her and Jon cannot guarantee her a future with love or affection. 

_But at least she will have a chance at a future. If the Northern and Targaryen armies fall, there will be no future for anyone. You know this, Sansa._

But she never thought he would ask something so ugly of her.

“I don’t want to leave Winterfell. Not again,” her voice faltering. 

Gods. He knows. He _knows_. She felt safe in Winterfell. Strong. Cared for the castle and prepared for the long winter ahead. And he was sending her away.

But she was always the dutiful daughter, an honor-bound Stark. He had known she would agree, that guilt and loyalty to the North would compel her to do so.

Knew it the moment the words left Tyriron Lannister’s mouth. A marriage alliance between Lady Stark and a Southron Lord to guarantee grain supplies for the North. To protect against the coming storm from beyond the wall, and to take away from Cersei’s armies.

He should have argued more. Despite the risk. Winter was here and Sansa should be home.

His sister had been engaged and married too many times. Had suffered enough. How strong is she expected to be? A queen who herself had suffered so should not so easily use another girl as a pawn. 

“My brother would never ask this of me,” Sansa finally whispers. “But I will do it for my King.”

He wishes she would again embrace him like a beloved brother. But he’s no longer her brother and he deserves her disdain.

He wants to argue, wants to lash out at her that her brother Robb and mother had promised betrothals for all the Stark children with the Freys. That he was trying to keep their home safe. Trying to keep Westeros from falling. That the lives of many were worth her sacrifice. 

But he knows it’s wrong. And so very ugly.

\- - -

He wants to do something for her. Something nice.

Something to show her she is still very much cared for. 

He remembers that she always did love pretty things. Pretty light colors and silks and delicate embroidery.

But she doesn’t have many pretty things now. Wears only dark furs and dresses like armor.

When he presents his offering to her, a beautiful silk number. Extravagant in its detailing and a beautiful shade of pale purple.

And the girl who could find beauty in anything could only ask, “Do you think my current clothes ugly?”

“No, not at all. I just wanted you to have something special for… ”

For when I sell you down the river for the price of grain.

_May Lord Stark and his wife forgive him. He is betraying their daughter in the worst way._

“You would like me to dress more befitting his wife? More ladylike. Fine. I understand,” but her voice holds no forgiveness. 

That wasn’t what he meant. _It wasn’t what he meant at all._

“I just… I thought you would like it. You used to like dresses…”

“Because I’m still a silly girl who will be happily seduced by a pretty dress. I said I understand.”  

_Loving dresses was never wrong, Sansa. It was the world that was wrong._

But in the midst of a great war, he had brought his cousin a _dress_. It was a terrible choice, but he just wanted to see her _smile_. Just once more. 

But how could she be expected to smile when she was being traded like a broodmare. 

“I had a pretty dress when I married Ramsey too.” 

Her words slice through him. His chest aches. 

_He failed her._

She finally looks at him, scared, vulnerable, and so lost. Looking to her executor for help. 

“I’m so scarred, Jon. I don’t think I can survive it again.” 

 _Oh gods._  Her newly betrothed is no Ramsey, Jon would never allow for that. Would die before that. 

But he’s not Prince Aemon either.

Jon was planning for battle and coordinating military strategies and took for granted this precious girl.

He cannot say anything, cannot fix anything, cannot promise anything.

But today, right this moment, he can comfort her.

He opens his arms and she falls into them. He holds her close as sobs rake through her body and he strokes her hair.

_I will win for you. When the war is over, I will find you. I will have the queen annul your marriage._

_I will keep you here. In Winterfell. You will be home, and the North will be yours._  
  
I promise. I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Gahh, here’s a 30-minute drabble drawn from unused sentences and my constant anxiety over Winterfell’s grain supplies? 
> 
>  
> 
> Guys, Tumblr is being super unreliable with my tags... so I'm moving some drabbles over here.  
> But let's still be friends there! I'm it-was-so-human.


End file.
